Sunshine and Shadow
by RhapsodyInProgress
Summary: For the first time since coming to this underground world, Demeter has something to hope for. She will not give in, she will not live to become a slave. She is a Jellicle cat and she will escape to see the sun again.


_Author's note: This is my slightly unconventional take on Demeter's history with Macavity and how she came to be a part of the Jellicle tribe. It combines a few of the popular theories, into something a little bit different. Maybe it's not the theory you go with, but I hope you'll like the story just the same. Also, I am one of those unfortunate souls who has never managed to see a live professional production of "Cats", so I base my characterisations off the video cast. That doesn't really come up here, but it bears mentioning. Otherwise, this is my first kick at the can insofar as Cats-fic go, so I hope you enjoy this. Constructive criticism and comments are always welcome._

_WARNING: Mild language, moderate violence and implication of sexual abuse._

_Disclaimer: "Cats" and all associated characters, themes, etc. etc. is copyright to T.S. Eliot, Andrew Lloyd Webber and all those other fabulous people who clearly are not me._

* * *

Demeter's father was all gold. He was that particular sort of stray that could have been something more had he ever taken the time to sit down and consider it. No one knew why he'd taken the mate he had, for she was plain and coloured all in shades of greys, browns, and duns while he gleamed like the sun. In Demeter's mind, her father's memory is inextricably linked with that of sunlight and day.

He named Demeter before he died, though she does not think that he intended that to be his last act on Earth. Even so, Demeter cherishes her name and her own golden fur – the two things that her father gave her and that no one can ever take away.

The period of time between her father's death and coming to the place she is now is fuzzy in Demeter's mind. She remembers running scared in her mother's shadow, sleeping in a shivering ball against the dust-coloured flank of a cat who had never wanted to be saddled with a kitten and had no idea what to do now that she was. The rest is a blur, but after all, Demeter was very young then.

It was after a week perhaps that the Mystery Cat found Demeter and her mother. There had been a thunderstorm raging and the wild-looking ginger cat with the hypnotic eyes seemed to materialize from the gloom as though he had been expecting to find the pair huddled where they were. Demeter now suspects that it was her mother that drew Macavity to them, as she was still a Jellicle then. For a long time Demeter's mother had walked a fine line between reluctant tribe-member and outcast by choice. Macavity would have relished the chance to push the dusty queen over that line.

As it turned out, Macavity did not have to push at all; the mother cat went willingly and without question. Because she did not know what else to do, Demeter followed.

The Mystery Cat's lair is dark and damp, located deep below ground and reeking of fear, despair and hatred. At the time of her arrival, Demeter could not put a name to the stench and knew only that it hurt her nose and made her fur stand up.

Demeter's mother seemed not to notice the smell of the place or the way that the very air seemed to smother and oppress. Otherwise, if she noticed, she did not care. The dust-coloured fallen queen was content to preen at Macavity's side while Demeter longed to return to the world and the light.

Now, months later, Demeter cowers in the near-darkness and stares at her gilded paws. It seems right to her that her golden fur is marbled with black, as though this world she lives in has seeped into her very form. She stares at her paws and thinks of her father and sunshine. Sometimes Demeter worries that she will forget what day looks like.

She has no one at all now, not even her mother. Demeter watched as the ex-Jellicle bent herself to Macavity's will, twisting herself to fit her role, breaking herself to fit his body. Demeter hardly recognizes her mother anymore. She is a crushed and hollowed-out shell who believes that she is the Mystery Cat's Queen, when really she is nothing but his whore. Even Demeter, young as she is, knows this to be true.

Demeter knows something else as well: it is not, nor has it ever been her mother that Macavity wants. It has always been Demeter.

Though she has no one, Demeter is never alone. He is always with her, if not in body than in spirit, a malevolent presence invading her thoughts and haunting her dreams. The gold dappled young female is the Mystery Cat's favourite toy, and he never misses an opportunity to remind her of this.

Without fail, when he finishes with her mother, Macavity comes to Demeter's dark littler corner. He rakes his claws through her fur not-quite hard enough to draw blood and whispers promises in her ear. She is too young yet, he hisses, breath hot against her cheek, but one day he will make her is queen.

Demeter is terrified by this thought, all the more so because there is something hard to resist in his hungry yellow eyes. She fears that, when the day comes, she will go to him willingly, the way her mother did. She does not trust her own strength.

In the meantime, other things are demanded of her. As first Demeter fights this, but the Mystery Cat will not be denied. Each time she resists she is punished severely. Sometimes he beats her, something he locks her in a pitch black prison so small and dark that Demeter fears she will lose her mind. Sometimes he turns his rage to her mother, which is almost the worst of all as Demeter can tell that the broken queen is past caring what is done to her and longs only for whatever attention he sees fit to give her. Macavity knows exactly how to break the young cat he has chosen to one day sit at his side, and he delights in the process.

Eventually, Demeter learns to do as she is told. She dances for him and preens for him and does a hundred different things that disgust and degrade her. In the times between these summonings, Demeter cowers in the shadows terrified to do anything to draw attention lest he decide that he is tired of waiting. Her sleep is plagued by nightmares that can only be calmed by thinking of her father and the sun.

Each day, Macavity claims another small part of her. He believes that she is his already, recognizing the way that it is harder for her to resist the draw of his gaze each moment she remains in the darkness. Through sheer force of will, Demeter clings to what little of herself remains and prays to anything that will listen to send something to her. She knows that there must be something that can come and save her.

And then, one day, something does.

It is not strange for Macavity to return to his lair in an unpleasant mood. Sometimes he will come back from a day above ground in such a terrible rage that to put oneself in his path is to risk one's life. Usually when this happens, Demeter does her best to blend in with the shadows, terrified to draw his notice while he is in such a temper. Today, however, she is coaxed from her hiding place by the sound of a name.

Demeter has not heard the word 'Jellicle' since she was a tiny kitten. She knows that her mother used to belong to the tribe, but beyond that Demeter has no idea what being a Jellicle cat means. Except that she thinks she is one.

Macavity, in his fury, denounces the tribe, their ways, their members, everything about them. He rages and storms against the cat that leads them, and vows one day to bring an end to the Jellicles and everything they stand for. So great is his anger that all of his henchcats and minions are sent scampering out of his path, all except Demeter. She sits enthralled by his words, mindless of the hate behind them and captured only by what they spark within her.

Somehow, Demeter knows that she has found her salvation. She is a Jellicle cat. She belongs with them. Demeter knows with all her heart that if she finds them, she will be saved. That night she calms her terror by thinking of the Jellicles and how she must get to them.

For the first time since coming to this underground world, Demeter has something to hope for. She will not give in the way her mother has, she will not live to become the Mystery Cat's slave. She is a Jellicle cat and she will escape to see the sun again.

Macavity does not notice the subtle change that comes over his would-be future queen. He does not recognize the fact that she seems less drawn to him, less overcome by his presence. He does not see the quiet defiance that marks her movements and flashes in her eyes. Macavity believes that he owns her, mind and soul, that she is his completely. In his arrogance, it never crosses his mind that his hold on her could slip.

Demeter's life becomes an exercise in waiting. She will have only one chance and she must wait for the perfect moment. Demeter can feel that she is running out of time. It will not be long before Macavity comes to make his final terrible claim. If that happens then she is doomed.

Opportunity comes unexpectedly. Returning to the lair in one of his more foul moods, Macavity makes a spectacle of Demeter's mother, beating the dull-coated cat into unconsciousness and leaving her in a crumpled heap. Demeter is so distracted by her plans to escape, that she unthinkingly darts forward to help the fallen queen and finds herself the next target of her captor's wrath.

She is left on the ground near her mother, ears ringing and head spinning so badly that she can not pull herself upright. When her vision clears and Demeter is able to lift her head, she finds herself alone. Macavity and his minions are nowhere in sight.

Heaving herself to her feet, Demeter peers through the shadows to confirm. The only other cat in the area is the still-unconscious form of her mother. For the first time since she came to this place, no one is watching her.

Her heart leaping in her chest, Demeter does not pause to think. She grabs her mother by the scruff and hauls her to the grate that is the door to this Hell. The bars are no issue – Demeter and her mother are thin and underfed and they fit through easily. On the other side, Demeter takes the tiniest moment to wonder if she is maybe dreaming this. Then she takes hold of her mother and begins to run.

It is a mark of how withered her mother has become that a cat as small and battered as Demeter can carry her so easily. Even so, common sense tells Demeter that she would move much faster without that burden. But Demeter can not and will not leave anyone she loves behind in that place, and she does love her mother, though she is not sure why she should.

The path from the Mystery Cat's lair is a labyrinth of tunnels, drain and pipes. It is much darker here than it was in the dens, with no lanterns or candles to break the gloom. Several times Demeter hits dead ends, and each time she feels her panic grow. Surely Macavity has noticed her missing by now. Surely he is coming after her.

Demeter runs. She squeezes through gratings and climbs through high-set pipes, dragging her mother's limp form along with her. Any moment she expects to see Macavity's shadow cross her path, to smell his peculiar and distinctive scent of ozone and smoke and feel his hot breath in her ear.

When she reaches another dead end, Demeter wails in despair and terror. She has nowhere else to go, no other path to try, Macavity will find her and this is where she will die.

And then Demeter smells the air.

Gone is the stale dankness, the reek of fear and despair. The air here is fresh and clean, so sweet that it makes Demeter dizzy. She looks around frantically for its source and finally spots a rectangular opening above her head. She pushes her mother up and through the hole, then follows, sobbing with relief, and drags herself out of the shadows and back into the world.

It is dark and pouring with rain.

Somehow, Demeter had always imagined that it would be sunny if and when she got free. The absence of daylight throws her momentarily but she shakes the disappointment away. Dark or not, the air is intoxicating. Demeter feels that she could sit there simply breathing it in for the rest of her life.

But there are other things to attend to. Demeter is not safe yet; she will not be safe until she finds the Jellicles. Before she can do that, she must first get herself and her mother far away from the hole they've just dragged themselves out of. That is the gateway into Hell, and Demeter wants to leave it far, far behind her.

The rain is cold and clings to Demeter's whiskers and runs into her eyes. Shivering, she drags her mother for half a block before the cold and wet finally take effect and the unconscious queen begins to stir.

The first thing the mother cat does is ask where they are. The second is to demand to be returned to the lair. Demeter is caught completely off guard. In her head, Demeter pictured herself and her mother happy and free, rejoining the tribe and becoming a real family. She assumed that her mother would have wanted this as much as Demeter does. It never occurred to Demeter that the opposite might be true.

When Demeter tries to talk sense into her mother, she is met with resistance. Demeter does not even think that her mother knows that it is her own daughter that she is screeching and clawing at. It is fortunate that the ex-Jellicle is so terribly weakened, because she tires of her fight quickly.

Demeter's return to the world is quickly becoming less-than triumphant. She is soaked to the skin and freezing. She has no idea where she is or where she is heading and her still feebly struggling mother is doing nothing to help matters. It seems as though the world she longed for all this time is doing everything it can to reject her and shut her out.

Feeling small, frightened and very much alone, Demeter takes shelter in an alley beneath a pile of discarded scrap wood and metal. She curls up next to the chilled flank of her mother and pretends that it is only rainwater sliding down her cheeks until, finally, sleep takes her.

The next morning the world is sodden and grey. A light drizzle has replaced the previous night's downpour. Demeter wakes from a restless sleep and shakes drops of water from her whiskers. She wonders if the sun has forgotten how to shine or if she simply imagined what daylight is supposed to look like. She looks down at her paws and finds them so filthy with dirt and grime that they are more grey-brown than gold. Nothing at all is happening the way it should, nothing at all is like she imagined it would be.

Demeter bends to nuzzle her mother awake. Perhaps today the queen will have regained her senses enough to lead them to the Jellicle cats. Perhaps things will get better from here. The other cat does not stir.

Frowning, Demeter nuzzles harder, pressing her face into the side of her mother's neck. It is then that Demeter registers how cold the old queen is, and how very still. Frantic, almost panicking, Demeter begins to shake her mother. She butts her head against the dusty shoulder and digs her claws into the colourless fur. It has no effect. Demeter backs into the corner of her hiding place, shaking from ear-tip to tail, a pathetic, heart-broken keening noise issuing from her throat. Her mother is dead. Demeter is utterly abandoned.

She doesn't know what the cause of death is. Perhaps the cold, perhaps a result of Macavity's last beating or perhaps nothing more than the knowledge that she would never see the Mystery Cat again. Demeter does not care why her mother is dead. All she can do is stare at the corpse and wonder why the plain queen, the ex-Jellicle, the Hidden Paw's whore, did not love her only daughter enough to stay alive on her behalf.

Hunger finally drives Demeter from her dead mother's side. She has never had to hunt for herself and does not know where to begin. She picks through rubbish bins and piles of garbage, hoping to scrounge up something worthwhile. Once she makes the mistake of crossing paths with a pack of flea-bitten alley cats who chase her for almost a block before she manages to lose them.

Foot-sore, exhausted and just as hungry as she started, Demeter tries to find a safe place to spend her second night of freedom. She is beginning to suspect that no such place exists, that there was almost no point in leaving the lair if this is all that waits for her. For the briefest of moments, she even considers going back. Perhaps Macavity would take her again; perhaps it would not be so bad to admit defeat. Though the idea crosses her mind for no more than an instant, Demeter is disgusted with herself, ashamed of how pathetically weak she is. She curls into a filthy, muddy corner and thinks it fitting that she should be lying there with the rest of the trash.

Demeter is only just sinking into sleep when the thunderstorm begins.

Demeter has not experienced a storm of this ferocity since the last time she was above ground, the night that Macavity found her and her mother. The smell of the air reminds her of the way Macavity's fur smells, like electricity and power. Demeter recalls the way that the ginger cat seemed to appear out of the night as though a part of the storm itself. She worries that he could sneak up on her again. She worries that he might be watching her at that very moment. Terror seizes the small gold and black cat and drives her to her feet, eyes frantically scanning the darkness for any sign of the Mystery Cat.

The next thunderclap is loud enough to shake the ground beneath Demeter's paws. Deep inside her, something snaps. She bolts from her hiding place with a panicked howl and tears off into the unforgiving night.

Demeter does not know where she is going. She is sleep-deprived, delirious with hunger and terrified out of her mind. In this foreign world of pounding rain, blinding lightening and bone-rattling thunder, she feels caught in the apocalypse. Even worse is her utter conviction that Macavity will find her somehow. As frightened as she is of this hostile world, that thought panics her beyond all else and keeps her running.

She runs through roads where roaring human machines try to mow her down. She runs through alleyways filled with angry cats who bite and claw at her when she pleads for their help. She runs until she can hardly draw breath, until her footpads are raw and bleeding, and still the rain does not stop and the lightning-storm smell of Macavity still fills her nose.

Demeter runs until finally her strength gives out entirely and she collapses. She lies on the muddy earth, chest heaving, body throbbing in a million places. Her vision is wavering in and out, but through the film of the rain and the haze of her own exhaustion, she can make something out in the distance. It looks a little like a junkyard.

Though she wants to get up and go there, Demeter can not make her body respond. She manages to drag herself a foot or two before collapsing a final time and slipping into merciful unconsciousness.

* * *

For the first time in as long as she can remember, Demeter wakes with the sun on her face. She is so unaccustomed to the warmth that at first she doesn't even know what it is. She lies blinking in the golden light and decides that she must be dead, and this must be the place where cat-souls go to rest.

The only thing wrong with this theory is the fact that her paws are still throbbing and almost every muscle in her body aches. Demeter does not think that pain is allowed in the fabled Heaviside Layer, so she must still be alive, though she is not sure how this can be.

Looking around, Demeter sees now that she is lying on a pile of blankets in a cozy den that smells like kittens and sunshine. Her injured paws have been cleaned of dirt and grit, and her numerous scratches and cuts are all washed and treated as well. Demeter frowns, trying to remember how she came to be here. All she can bring to mind is rain, mud and terrible darkness. Demeter shudders at the thought and moves toward the shaft of light that first awakened her. It is then that she notices the other cats.

There are two of them, two queens one slightly older and one slightly younger-looking than Demeter's mother. They are pretty cats with bright, clean fur and friendly, open faces marked by concern for their young charge.

Frightened and unsure, Demeter shrinks away from these strangers, pressing her back to the corner of the den. Neither queen moves, but both watch Demeter carefully. They seem to have decided to let Demeter approach them first before attempting to speak with her.

Demeter, her heart thudding painfully with nerves and something like hope, studies the faces of her rescuers. They are like no other cat she has ever seen – they have the kindest eyes she could imagine. Drawing on all of her courage, Demeter creeps forward into the square of sunlight.

For a moment she watches the light play across her paws. She thinks of her father who named her for a goddess because he loved her so much and wanted such great things for her. Demeter closes her eyes and imagines that the warmth is the caress of her father's golden paw, promising that things will be alright now if she will just believe it to be true. Opening her eyes, Demeter finally turns to face the two patiently waiting queens.

In a voice that is raspy from disuse, timid and shaky, but still surprisingly clear, Demeter says, "I am looking for my family." She takes a deep breath, puffs out her chest and little and adds in a stronger tone, "I am a Jellicle Cat."

The younger of the two queens, a reddish-brown tabby, smiles warmly at Demeter and says, "Yes dear. So are we."

And Demeter, finally home after all this time, wounded and beaten but still alive, turns her head into the light of the sun and weeps for joy.

**END**


End file.
